I had a guy friend who was definitely a nice guy, a guy who had ethics for sure, and not an alpha type. He'd been in the military, been in combat, rode motorcycles. But I'd say while he could be tough, he was more of a beta than an alpha.
When we met, he had a crush on me. I didn't have one back. We were friends for a very long time, I think seven years. He would often comment on my Facebook with hubba-hubba type remarks, even when he had girlfriends. He'd always compliment me, set up the compliments with an "I'm not trying to hit on you," and then extol my greatness. No matter who he was with or how much in love, he'd always extol me, and I had the feeling that if I showed interest, he'd dump whoever he was with, though he denied it when I brought it up once. I continued to make it clear we were friends and no more, and only once on a photo of him in a suit did I say wow.
What I didn't notice because I didn't know enough at the time, was how he would talk about something with his ex-wife. When they'd gotten into an argument, the cops were called and he ended up going to jail. He always claimed he was innocent. But looking back, I can see the red flag. It all came together when our friendship ended.
Once again, he was extolling me, calling me a goddess. I didn't like it. I didn't like being on a pedestal, especially when it was not accurate. For the millionth time, I gently but firmly tried to get him to back off from that, and he finally lost it. He yelled, "Goodbye! Goodbye! Goodbye!" and hung up.
Now that I understand the pattern, it makes a lot of sense. All that time in the friend zone, he'd kept hoping. He didn't hear my No but a Maybe. He didn't see me as I am, but as a glorified version of myself. If I'd ever gotten together with him, he would have treated me like a goddess. Then eventually I wouldn't live up to being a goddess, I'd fall from the pedestal, and the devaluing and subtle abuse would start. It just seems like a textbook recipe for domestic violence.
We had friends in common. I always felt uncomfortable with his gushing, but one of my female friends in our group said to let him feel what he feels, it was harmless. Now I know to listen to my gut. If it feels yucky, it is yucky. If it doesn't feel good, it's not good. If there is not agreement about who I fundamentally am and about how one acts in a friendship, then there is a battle going on, and I don't want to be in battle. I would have done much better to cut it off early on, but that was almost a decade ago, and I didn't know then what I firmly know now. I didn't have the resources to help me figure this stuff out and to give me the foundation and internal support that I have now.